


Gifts

by Aquareanne



Series: Love is Strange [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8203115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquareanne/pseuds/Aquareanne
Summary: Who knew Caesar's third-in-command could be romantic?





	

Six hands Lucius a Nuka-Cola bottle filled with oil and water. The label’s been torn off and what’s left is faded, smudged beyond legibility.  _ A gift, _ she says. Not the first he’s received, but the strangest. Shake well, but the two substances never mix.

He stares at it, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The liquids clash against each other as he tips the soda bottle upside down then right side up. The Courier chuckles, fascinated by his obsession. Her laugh's as pleasant as a cool breeze in the desert sun.

“It’s supposed to mimic the waves of the ocean,” Six explains. “I know you don’t see much of anything, so I figured I’d bring back pieces of the world for you.”

“Thank you.” There’s more that he wants to say—like  _ I love you _ —but speaking isn't his area of expertise. A Praetorian fights with his fists, not his words. He truly does appreciate her gift, though, and silently promises to treasure it for eternity.

Of course, that isn’t the only desert souvenir Six has stashed in her pack. She showers him with pre-war artifacts, things that anyone else would classify as 'junk'. It's a wonder the seams haven't given out, her backpack's so heavy.

His favorite is the Nevada postcard with her inscription; he loves how she writes: each letter loosely connected in a way that’s similar to cursive. She tells him where she found it (inside a gas station) and what she likes about the photograph on the front (the sunset). He doesn’t understand her infatuation with the old world, but her voice is like agave nectar and he'd listen to her talk forever without a single complaint.

“I have something for you, too.” Lucius says after Six goes quiet. She looks at up him, a hint of excitement twinkling in her honey colored eyes. It isn’t often she gets anything from him and if she does it’s a novel she’s ready half a dozen times. Not that it bothers her; she loves each book dearly.

“Close your eyes.” Six does as she’s told, resisting the urge to peek through her eyelashes. There’s noise—he's rifling through  _ something _ —then there's silence. She hopes nothing too disturbing, like bloody NCR dog tags.

It's a machete, thank God, one with her name—her _real_ name, not ‘Six’ or ‘Courier’—carved into the hilt. The blade’s whiter than ivory, sharper than her wit. She slashes the air with it, testing the speed. Deadly and efficient, just like her.

Six wraps her arms around Lucius, squeezing him tightly. Not the most comfortable position—he can’t breathe properly—but he won't object. He wishes he could take this moment and freeze it in time. But he can't, so he focuses on committing every detail to memory: the way she buries her face in his neck, how she clings to him like she’ll never let go.

“I know it’s not—” She presses a finger to his lips, shushing him.

“It’s perfect, Lucius.” To emphasize her point, Six leans in and kisses him. The machete clatters to the floor and she uses her newly free hand to cup his face. It’s soft and not nearly as long as he would have preferred, but it leaves him breathless. “I love it.”

They stand in silence, his arms wrapped around her waist, her hands resting on his shoulders. Neither one wants to let go. If they do, Six'll leave. She never stays long.


End file.
